


In the Pale Moonlight

by kelstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x9 coda, Destiel - Freeform, Episode: s12e09 First Blood, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9507992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelstiel/pseuds/kelstiel
Summary: Dean has taken to midnight drives to see the stars. After spending six weeks in solitary, who can blame him for getting lost in the vast open space of the night sky? It's a certain patient angel who eventually brings him back down to Earth.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So it's a bit of a rough draft, but I had to post something after 12.09. I hope you enjoy it!

The sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon, but the moon was bright overhead. Not quite full, but early enough in its waning phase to give a soft glow to the black car below. The vehicle’s driver had parked it nearly forty minutes ago, and was now sitting on the hood staring up at the night sky. The man’s eyes wandered between each star, lingering on each for several moments as if contemplating the individual significance of each one. After six weeks and two days of solitary confinement, one could hardly blame Dean Winchester for his sudden fascination with stars. He’d never paid them much attention before, but as he sat there tonight staring out into the night sky, he couldn’t help but feel they were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  


All right, so that’s an exaggeration, and a bit too close to a chick flick moment for Dean’s liking. But still, it wasn’t something he thought he’d ever see again. Even after he made the deal with Billie, he’d planned right from the start that he would be the one to die at midnight. Anything was better than that tiny cell of nothingness. He’d go back to Hell with a smile on his face before he ever went back to that terrible place. But then Cas… Well, Cas had pulled a move worthy of a Winchester. And now Dean was here, sitting out in the open air with his car.  


His phone buzzed on the hood, lighting up with a photo of his mother. He stared at the photo for a moment or two before he answered. “Hey, Mom.”  


“Where are you? Are you okay?”  


“Relax, I’m fine. I just went for a drive.” Dean closed his eyes, he could feel a headache forming.  


“At two in the morning?!”  


“I couldn’t sleep.”  


It was sweet that she worried, really. A part of Dean relished it, these were the little things he’d missed out on his whole life. But the other part, (the bigger part) wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with it.  


“How soon can you get back here?”  


Dean looked over his shoulder, back towards the direction of the Bunker. “Twenty minutes?” He told her, thought it had only taken him ten to get here. He wasn’t quite ready to leave yet.  


“Okay. See you soon.”  


“Yeah, see you.”  


“…I love you.”  


Why did his eyes suddenly feel about a hundred degrees too hot?  


“Love you too, Mom.” He mumbled, hanging up. He heaved a sigh and rubbed at his face. He glanced at the time on his phone; 2:13am. He hopped off the hood and pulled the driver’s side door open. He turned the key as he sat down and immediately cranked the volume on his cassette player. He didn’t bother with the seatbelt as he pulled the car around and headed back to the bunker. Home. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was Castiel who called him the night after that. Dean had once again taken solace in the vast array of stars from the hood of his Impala at what most would call an “Ungodly Hour.” (Every hour was ungodly in Dean’s opinion, now that Chuck had fucked off to who knows where.) When the name “Cass” showed up on his phone he reminded himself to delete that second ‘s.’ It looked stupid.  


“Hey buddy.”  


“Dean.” Cas sounded positively relieved. “Where are you?”  


“I went for a drive.”  


“Alone?”  


“Yes.”  


“Why?”  


Dean released a deep breath, there’s that headache again…  


“I needed some air.”  


“Oh.”  


“Yeah.”  


Silence fell, all Dean could hear was the sound of the angel breathing. It was slightly erratic, like he’d just been having a panic attack and was trying to get it back under control. Dean wondered if angels could even have panic attacks, but then… Cas is no ordinary angel, is he?  


It was Dean who broke the silence. “Did you have a reason for calling?”  


“I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”  


“Well I am.”  


“Okay.”  


“Okay.”  


“See you at home, buddy.”  


The stars seemed even farther away after Dean hung up. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam asked to come along on the third night, and Dean didn’t have the heart to say no. After all, if anyone could understand it would be him. He’s the only one who knew first-hand what it was like in there. Dean just hoped he wouldn’t want to talk about it.  


The two of them sat together on the hood in silence for nearly two hours, and no one called. Dean figured Sam probably left a note. It was the Sam-thing to do. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the fourth night, Cas was waiting by the Impala. Dean hadn’t exactly been avoiding him the last few days but he also hadn’t exactly gone seeking out the angel’s company or been very talkative around him.  


“Hello, Dean.”  


“Hi.” Dean chose not to look at Cas, and instead went straight for the driver’s side door. He put his hands in his jacket pocket, then immediately into his jeans pockets. He scanned the garage frantically.  


“Looking for these?” Dean looked over and there was Cas holding the keys to his Baby. Dean felt a surge of anger.  


“Give those back.”  


“Not until we talk.”  


“There’s nothing to talk about.”  


“Bullshit!”  


Dean finally met the angel’s eyes with his own. Cas was pissed, that much was clear. He defiantly stayed silent.  


“You’re not okay, Dean.”  


Damn that asshole in a trenchcoat. When it came to Dean Winchester, Castiel could always read the man like an open book. Maybe a side-effect of that profound bond, or maybe something else entirely. Whatever it was, Dean hated it.  


“What makes you say that?” He asked.  


“Worse than Hell? Come on, Dean. I know what Hell did to you. I was there.”  


Dean cursed himself internally. He shouldn’t have said that, at least not while Cas was around.  


“What do you want me to say, Cas? That I hated that place so much I was hoping for death three days in? That I prayed every night to you, to God? Even though I knew neither of you could hear me?”  


“Dean, I’m sorry…”  


“Don’t. Cas, in Hell there was something to fight against, something to keep me going. In that prison cell… there was nothing. No one to talk to, nothing to fight, nothing to do. I was going insane. I could feel it. I would have done anything to get out. Now will you please, just give me my keys so I can go?”  


“Go where?” The question was soft, and Dean could tell by the rough voice that Cas probably hadn’t expected that answer.  


“Just… out.” Dean took a step forward, his hand outstretched for the keys. Cas pulled back, the answer clearly unsatisfactory. Dean sighed. “It’s too crowded in here. I just need some fresh air.”  


“May I join you?”  


Dean hesitated. Cas was certainly not going to understand as well as Sam had. But even Dean Winchester got lonely after six weeks and two days of total isolation.  


“Get in.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the fifth night, Cas met him at the car again. And the sixth, and seventh. Some nights were quiet, but on others, they talked. About everything and about nothing. On the eighth night, in rained. So they stayed in, but Cas still kept him company in the library when he couldn’t sleep. The ninth night was cloudy and cold, so they didn’t stay out very long. On the tenth night, the weather was clear again. They drove out to the usual spot and sat on the hood of the car.  


There was only a sliver of the moon visible now, but that didn’t matter. If anything, the stars were brighter because of it, and it was always about the stars for Dean. A breeze rustled the bushes around the road and Dean shivered. It was still quite cold, though the sky was clear. Cas shifted beside him and suddenly Dean felt a warmth wrap around him. He looked away from the sky to find Cas had draped his trench coat over him, and for a moment Dean felt vaguely sick at how damned sweet that action was.  


“Cas…”  


“You need it more than I do.” The angel stated, “No sense in you getting sick out here.”  


Dean didn’t argue, instead he pulled the trench coat tighter around himself and went back to watching the stars.  


After a few moments, he remembered to say, “Thank you.” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something changed after that night, though neither of them really talked about it. They just seemed more comfortable. There were a few more nights that Dean came home wearing the trench coat over his own, and while Mary noticed, she didn’t say a word. It was nearly a month after they escaped the prison, on night twenty-four, that Dean kissed 

Cas under the pale light of the full moon.  


He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he knew three things were certain: One, Cas had saved his life, Sam’s life, and now his mother’s life, more times than he could count. That meant something.  


Two, Dean had a lot of time to think in that prison, as well as those hours of silently staring into space. And one of the biggest regrets he had was that he hadn’t taken the time to make sure Cas was okay. He had just spent the better part of a year being possessed by Lucifer, after all, and on top of that he found out his father had been alive and aware of the situation for thousands of years without saying a damn word. And when he did finally show his face, Dean hadn’t missed the fact that Castiel didn’t seem to be a priority for Chuck. Dean had vowed in week two of confinement that if he ever got out of there he’d make sure to make Cas a priority when he got back. He wasn’t sure exactly when that evolved into “I’m gonna kiss him” but he suspected it had something to do with how the stars really seemed to put things into perspective.  


And three, the way the stars reflected in the angel’s eyes was probably the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Okay, so that’s a bit chick flick-y too.  


But it certainly wasn’t an exaggeration.


End file.
